


garlic breath and other tragedies

by torigates



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Food, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crystal keeps bringing Posey food and Dylan is jealous (and hungry).</p>
            </blockquote>





	garlic breath and other tragedies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perfectlystill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlystill/gifts).



> Inspired primarily by [this gifset](http://sciless.tumblr.com/post/39555513153/i-love-the-scenes-with-you-and-tyler-posey-where) on tumblr and a twitter conversation with perfectlystill

The first time Dylan noticed it wasn’t until about six episodes into filming season three. 

He was pacing back and forth in his trailer going over lines before his next scene, when Crystal opened his door and poked her head in. He turned mid step to face her.

“Hey,” she smiled at him. “Is Posey here?” 

“Nope,” he said. “I think he’s on set already, actually. Don’t you too have a scene,” he glanced down at his watch, “Like now?” 

“Shit,” she said. “Yeah, I gotta go.” 

At the time, Dylan didn’t take any notice of the sandwich in her hand. Perhaps, in retrospect, he should have. 

 

\- 

 

The second time, he and Posey were hanging out in Poesy’s trailer, Dylan was dozing on the couch, and Tyler was doing something on his laptop. Dylan couldn’t see what from his current position. 

There was a knock on the door. Dylan didn’t bother getting up, seeing as he could barely give any fucks to answer his own door, he definitely wasn’t going to do Posey any favours. 

“Come in!” Tyler called. 

Dylan didn’t move, but he heard Crystal’s laugh before the door opened. 

“Hey, Tyler,” she said. A moment later her head popped into Dylan’s line of sight. “Hey Dylan.” 

Dylan waved. 

Crystal took three steps across Tyler’s tiny trailer, and Dylan could hear her set something down on the table next to Posey’s laptop. 

“Eat that,” she said. 

“Cool,” Tyler said. “Thanks.” 

Dylan could hear tearing paper, and then the sound of chewing. He sat up. “What just happened?” he asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. 

Crystal smiled. She was sitting adorably on Tyler’s lap, her arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, while Tyler shoveled truly impressive amounts of food into his mouth. It was kind of disgusting, actually. Dylan hated both their dimpled faces. “We have a kissing scene later,” she said. 

“Okay,” Dylan replied. “Non sequitur, but okay.” 

Posey continued to eat. Crystal continued to look adorable. “So what does the two of you kissing later have to do with you bringing Tyler lunch? Because I’ll kiss you later if it means I get a free lunch. I’ll kiss the hell out of you.” 

Crystal rolled her eyes. “I wanted shawarma,” she said. 

Dylan nodded, then paused. “No wait, that still doesn’t make sense. Explain more.” 

“I can’t have garlic breath on my own if we’re kissing later,” she said, her tone of voice heavy with the implicit ‘duh.’ “One, it’s rude, and two it’s embarrassing.” 

“So,” Dylan said. “You bring him lunch instead?” 

She nodded. “That way we’re both garlicky and everyone is happy.” 

“Except me,” Dylan said, and he jumped to his feet. “I’m not happy. I like shawarma, Crystal. What about me, huh? What about _me_?” He liked shawarma a lot actually, and he was pretty starving. It had been a long day so far. They had filmed some ‘night’ scenes, which mean that Dylan had been on set by like ass o’clock this morning.

Crystal rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything. She gave Tyler a kiss on the cheek before sauntering out of the trailer. Tyler stared a bit dreamily after her. It was grossly in character.

“See you later, boys,” she said. “I’m due in hair and makeup.” 

Tyler waved happily. Dylan turned back around and flopped down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I like shawarma,” he said again, sulkily. 

Tyler flipped him off, which Dylan thought was just adding insult to injury. 

 

\- 

 

After that, it was like Dylan noticed it _all the time_. It didn’t help that Scott and Allison were back together on the show, so Tyler and Crystal were literally making out every day. Sometimes for _hours_. 

And like, okay. Here was the thing. Dylan didn’t necessarily want to have Tyler’s job (either one of them, really), because Tyler had to get naked on screen a lot, and work out all the time, and he had to shave his chest, and Dylan didn’t want to do any of those things. 

He wasn’t a big fan of making out on screen either. It wasn’t terrible, obviously. He was a dude who enjoyed kissing as much as the next guy, and he and Britt had all kinds of fun on _The First Time_ , but it was also awkward, and there were always a million people around watching. Dylan got that was part of the job, but nothing killed his (theoretical) boner faster than having someone shout in his ear, “No, Dylan, could you hold her neck a little further down, yeah, perfect. Now tilt her head to the side a bit when you kiss her. Yeah, that’s great. Open your mouth a little more. Perfect, that’s great.” It was like... well, Dylan didn’t have a metaphor for what it was like, actually, but it was like being graded on kissing and that was _terrifying_.

So yeah, it wasn’t that he wanted Posey’s job either hypothetically or really, but _Crystal kept bringing Posey food_. 

All the time. And it was always so delicious smelling, and Dylan _wanted some_. 

“Dylan, honey,” Holland’s voice took on that sugary sweet Lydia Martin tone that he hardly ever heard when they weren’t acting. It was scary. Why did Dylan work with so many scary people?

They were on the sound set waiting for the props guys to finish up, and Dylan could still smell the pad thai Tyler had just finished eating. He was grumpy. 

Holland patted his knee in a way that was actually pretty frightening. “I’m going to say this one more time, and then _I will murder you in your sleep_. If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of food over at craft services. Go get some. Fuck, get a PA to bring you some. I don’t care.” 

Dylan slid off his chair, and made his way over to where there was still a pretty impressive display of food, mumbling the whole time about how it wasn’t the same. 

He did manage to put together a pretty impressive looking sandwich, though. 

He wandered back over to where Holland was sitting, hopped back into his chair and took a bite out of his food. It was good, but he just knew it wasn’t _as good_ , as what Crystal and Posey had for lunch. Life wasn’t fair.

“What’s wrong with him?” Hoechlin asked. He must have just gotten out of makeup, because he was wearing a ripped tank top that was covered in fake blood. 

Holland rolled her eyes. “He’s upset because Crystal brought Posey lunch again.” 

Hoechlin laughed. “I’ll share my food with you, Dylan,” he said good-naturedly, and pulled a bag of carrot sticks out of seemingly nowhere (no seriously, where did they come from? Hoechlin’s pants were _infamously_ tight). 

Dylan scowled. “No thanks. No one wants your rabbit food, Hoechlin.” 

Hoechlin smiled and shrugged. “No need to pout.” 

“I’m not pouting,” Dylan said. 

Hoechlin wandered off, still smiling. 

 

\- 

 

Two weeks later, Dylan was sitting in makeup, keeping Posey company while the girls made him all werewolfy. It never failed to crack Dylan up to see either of the Tylers, or Daniel, or Sinqua, or Gage in their werewolf faces. They just looked so funny, or like aliens, or something. 

Plus, it never stopped being slightly surreal to see Hoechlin laughing while he had Derek Hale’s face on. 

But Hoechlin wasn’t around right now. Dylan was pretty sure he wasn’t even on set, that he had a day off or something. Of course, for Hoechlin that meant getting like probably sixteen hours at the gym and then going for a ten mile run to relax. But whatever. Dylan was totally confident in his own body. 

Dylan smelled her--or her food, really--before Crystal appeared at the doorway carrying two takeout containers of what smelled like biryani. Which was just mean, Dylan loved Indian food. 

“Eat this,” Crystal said, plopping a container down in front of Tyler. Posey just scooped the container and fork off his lap and chowed down without a second thought.

Dylan turned to look at her. She held up a finger before he could even open his mouth. “Don’t,” she said. 

“Come on,” he complained. “Where’s mine?” 

“Dylan, do you have a kissing scene with me later today?” she asked. 

“No,” Dylan muttered. 

“Then you don’t get any. Go feed yourself, you’re a grown ass man.” 

Dylan huffed. Crystal blew him a kiss and left. 

Tyler stuffed an enormous bite into his mouth, chewed obnoxiously for several long moments, before turning a huge shiteating grin Dylan’s way. 

“You know what tastes great with biryani?” he asked. 

“I don’t care,” Dylan said. 

“Making out with Crystal later. Suck it.” He laughed for about five minutes straight, and Dylan punched him in the arm as hard as he could. 

“You think you’re so great,” Dylan said. “With your stupid handsome werewolf face, with your delicious food, and your stupid TV werewolf girlfriend, don’t you.” 

Tyler just looked at Dylan like he was the biggest idiot on the planet. “Well, duh,” he said. “And then after work I’m going to go home and make out with my real life girlfriend.” He grinned again.

Dylan stood and flipped him the bird. “I hate your face, and I hate you,” he said, as he walked out of the room. 

“You love everything about me!” Tyler called after him.


End file.
